


Hunted

by spiderks



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Abuse, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Gen, How Do I Tag, Kidnapping, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Telekinesis, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderks/pseuds/spiderks
Summary: The Strongholds didn't know what to expect when a bruised and dirty boy appeared on their doorstep.Inspired by War and Peace In Mind by Jeune Chat





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I make a lot of works but never update oof

_**❝𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋!❞**_   The man stopped himself from choking the giggly sidekick and instead paced up and down the floor in the small janitors closet.

"The car is still hidden. G-3 is doing a marvelous job at hiding it. Maybe we could escape now?" The sidekick gained a hopeful tone in his voice, poking timidly at the younger, but bulkier man.

"No, I will escape. You will turn yourself in. There are no rewards for acts of idiocy." The man growled dangerously. He was beyond angry at the sidekick and even more at the girl.

The plan was clear and straightforward. Stay hidden and get B-13. The Pacifier was to be used as a back up if anything were to happen that wasn't in the plan. Ignoring the plan and using the Pacifier anyways was not the orders he gave her. The girl was dumb, blinded by emotions. She only wanted revenge! The man decided that prison was a suitable punishment for her and the sidekick. The other 'heroes' would come with him. They needed more lesson in obedience.

"Go turn yourself in and if you utter one word about this, you'll meet a fate worst than prison." He ordered harshly. The small man whimpered and ran off, closing the door to the closet softly as not to be heard. The younger man listened as the soft, twitchy footsteps faded away. He growled under his breath and began to pace again. He would retrieve B-13 himself, he decided. He would have to do it fast. He doubted G-3 could keep the car invisible longer than he told her too.

The man peaked out of the door, paused to see if anyone was coming, then headed out in search for B-13. It would be hard. The man was unsure if B-13 was still with Stronghold's boy and his group of merry want-to-be heroes. If so, he would have to think of another way to retrieve him.

The brawny man's footsteps were silent in the hallway. He had no way of finding B-13, but he hoped for the best. As he walked, he came closer to the back of the school where a opening was built with a small veranda. There was a bench placed directly in the middle of the veranda, and on that bench sat a boy with shoulder length black hair and streaks of red. The man smirked at his luck and quietly made his way up to the boy. When he was only a few feet away, the boy's shoulders tensed.

"I told you I didn't want to talk, Stronghold." The boy sneered, but the man could hear the playful tone in his voice. The man tutted and watched as the younger boy froze. The man breathed in the smell of fear flowing from the boy's body.

"You don't have to hurt anymore, young one. I'll take care of you." The man cooed. The boy turned, ready for a fight, but the man was older, faster, and stronger. Most importantly, he was prepared. Before the boy could ignite the fire in his veins, the man placed his hand on the boy's head, caressing it, mocking the touch of a father. The older of the two watched with a smile as the boy's eyes fluttered close and finally, the plan was complete. The man's smile grew as he took in the memories of the unconscious body.

"Oh, we'll have so much fun together, B-13. I can already tell we'll be the best of friends." And the man picked the boy up and carried him back the car where G-3 sat patiently, awaiting further orders from the villain that would one day be known to the world as the worst enemy they've ever encountered.


	2. Chapter 1

It was a normal night at the Stronghold household. Will Stronghold was already in bed, worn out from all the homework his teachers had assigned. He didn't think his sophomore year would be hard the year before, but now he was regretting skipping his schoolwork for video games and hanging out with friends. His grades weren't terrible, but they weren't great either. Will sighed before turning his bedside lamp off and drifting off to sleep.

As for the two adults in the house, Steve and Josie Stronghold decided to spend a little more time cleaning before going to bed. Josie placed leftover spaghetti in the refrigerator and Steve opted for cleaning the plates and cups from the dining table.

"All I'm saying is that it would be a great bonding technique with Will." Steve said while washing a plate.

"We are not buying an air hockey table for the sanctum just so you can beat our son at it and rub it in his face." Josie sighed.

Steve spluttered, "Rub it in his face? No, no, no, Josie! I would never!"

Josie glanced at her husband, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. Before she could reply, there was a knock on the door. It was quiet, weak, but Josie still heard it and so did Steve. And just like that they were no longer Steve and Josie Stronghold, parents of a teenage boy. They were the Commander and Jetstream, the world's most famous superheroes.

There was another knock as the superheroes made their way to the door. Jetstream stayed a few feet behind the Commander. They were cautious. Who would be knocking on their door at almost 10 o'clock at night?

The Commander looked through the peep hole of the door, frowning when he saw nothing but a boy, but he wasn't easily fooled. This could be a trick.

"It's a boy." He said offhandedly to Jetstream. He then opened the door, keeping his expression calm as he looked the boy. The boy's head was down and the superheroes could see the streaks of white in his neatly cut short, inky black hair. He was tall, almost as tall as the Commander, with goosebumps littering his tan skin. His arms were crossed tightly, tattoos of faded flames on his bruised wrists. The superheroes took notice of the black cuff on his left wrist, as well as the all white shirt, pants, and socks he donned. And then the boy glanced up and The Commander and Jetstream were now Steve and Josie Stronghold, parents of a teenage boy who was just about the same age as the boy standing in front of him.

The young boy's eyes, fringed with long lashes, were amber, solid, coppery, and last, but not least, frightened. His face, albeit free of acne, was covered in bruises and wounds. His lips were chapped and split, he chewed on them viciously.

"Mom? Dad?" Came the voice of Will as he walked down the stairs slowly. He turned down the hallway towards his parents and caught sight of the boy that greatly confused, yet worried his parents.

_"Warren Peace?!"_

Will was shocked. The pyrokinetic went missing the night of last year's homecoming. The Commander and Jetstream already had Royal Pain in cuffs, ready to be arrested along with Stitches when Will had finally noticed how long it had been since Warren told him he wanted to be alone.

* * *

_"Hey, Layla, have you seen Warren? He told me he wanted some time alone and left like an hour ago." Warren asked worriedly. He held a cup of punch in his left hand and a plate of cheese cubes in the other. In fact, almost everyone could be seen with a cup of punch, dancing, talking, and having a good time. No one seemed to be worrying about a quiet boy with fire powers._

_"No. Sorry, Will." She said with a frown. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off when Magenta grabbed Layla by the arm and dragged her away. Layla looked over her shoulder, mouthing apologies, leaving Will standing alone._

_He looked around hopelessly. He knew Warren could protect himself perfectly fine. Hell, he could've roasted Will in the cafeteria if he wanted to! But this didn't make Will feel any better. Warren shouldn't have to fight alone. Will desperately wanted to be his friend, to show him that he didn't care that Warren was the son of a villain._

_"Will, come here! The school needs a picture of the Stronghold Three." His dad thundered from across the room with his mom in his arms. Will took one last look around the room before making his way to his parents._

* * *

And yeah, maybe he should have been more worried. And yes, he probably should've done a little more in trying to find Warren. Will blames himself for not caring a little more. He feels even more guilty when he realized that nobody else cared either. They didn't even bother to look for him, check if he was okay. Will reported that Warren was missing to Principle Powers who in turn promised to search for him. That was it. No "I'll file a missing person report," or "A student's missing! We have to find him!" She didn't looked bothered at all by the fact that one of her students was missing. Who would tell Warren's mother? Did Warren even have a mother?

In the end, they found out that Warren did in fact have a mother. But, she was dead. Murdered in cold blood. Principle Powers sent a staff member to report the news that Warren was missing to his mother, but instead ended up screaming, panicked and frightened at the sight that greeted her. Warren's mother, Genevieve Peace, swung from the ceiling upside down, her feet tied together leaving her hands and hair to swing uselessly in the stale air. She was naked, they said. Her body was clean of wounds, the only thing left to see was a large symbol carved on her stomach. The symbol turned out to be Chinese for evil.

This certainly made Principle Powers worry, including everyone else in the DOSA (Department of Superhero Affairs), which also meant that his parents were right on the case, getting every known fact about it, which lead to Will snooping around, and resulted in him telling his friends everything. Looking at Warren now, it seems that more people were going to be involved with this case and not just because Warren's house was a crime scene.

* * *

Warren was frightened. Out of all the things he gained from months of abuse, he knew memory loss was not one of them because he clearly remembered the three people in front of him. He started to think that coming here was a bad idea. Awkwardness did not fit well with him. Warren shook his head. He could deal with a little awkwardness. It's surely better than pain and he's certainly had enough of that. His thoughts of this being a bad idea came crashing back into his head. What if they found him? What if he didn't break the band all of the way? Warren didn't have time to think of more what if's before Will came rushing towards him.

"I can't believe you're here!" He exclaimed, reaching out to touch Warren. He flinched back, stumbling on his feet. He had never been so happy to see Will, but he couldn't help but feel threatened when he saw the hand reaching towards him. It was an impulse to flinch.

"I'm sorry." Will stuttered. He must have just noticed the bruises on his face because Will's eyes suddenly drifted from his own to his lips, then to his cheeks, and forehead. "What happened to you?" Will murmured.

"Will, could you get a glass of water for, um, Mr. Peace?" Josie ordered rather than asked. Will hesitated before rushing to complete the task. If Steve wasn't so shocked, he would have made a joke about how he had just washed the dishes. He decided not to. Jokes wouldn't help any of them and it certainly wouldn't make the bruised and dirty boy laugh.

"Come in, sweetie. We won't hurt you." Josie said softly. Steve was glad Josie decided to take the lead because he had no idea how to deal with the son of his worst enemy, not even when said boy was hurt.

Josie grabbed Warren's hand, ignoring the flinch the boy gave. She ran her hand over the rough skin of his as he warily stepped into the house. The warmth greeted him like a slap in the face. It was so foreign now. It's hard to believe that it was all he used to depend on. And it was everywhere too. He could feel it radiating off of Jetstream's hand, the Commander's body as he walked past his still form, and the couch when Jestream made him sit down. And then the warmth was replaced by the cold when Will slid a glass of cool water into his hand. A wave of shock washed over Warren's body. He didn't expect them to treat him like this. He didn't expect to be warm. He expected hostility. He prepared himself for having the door slammed in his face. Warren decided that he preferred this instead as he took a large gulp of water. When he finished drinking the water, the warmth greeted him again. He let it run over him and allowed a shadow of a smile to grace his face. He may not be completely safe, but if he was going to stay here, he could get used to being warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end is a bit rushed and there are probably a lot of questions you all have but they will eventually be answered!


	3. Chapter 2

Warren let out a content sigh. The bed he was lying on was not rough, nor did it smell of must and blood. It was soft, comfy, and most importantly, warm. Warren let the scent of clean sheets on the bed surround him as he relaxed into the bed. He thought about the night before, how he managed to escape and find the Stronghold's. The fear of being caught never left him, but the relief of being away, the hope he held, the possibility of freedom, that's what made him stay. And it's what would make him tell the Stronghold's everything they needed to know in order to save them all.

Warren rolled over into a seated position and dug his toes into the soft carpet of the guest bedroom. Warren wished he could stay here forever, where everything was mellow and clean, but he knew he had to leave. He stood up and walked out of the room. The hallway was full of pictures of Will and his parents. Warren swallowed his jealousy that so badly wanted to come out and continued down the hall, towards the sound of multiple voices. The voices became louder when he went down the stairs, but became quiet as he stepped into the kitchen.

Mrs. Stronghold stood in front of a stove with a spatula and a soft smile reserved just for him. She seemed to be cooking an assortment of breakfast foods. The smell made Warren's stomach growl softly. He briefly recalled memories of eating stale bread and mushy oatmeal for almost a year. Mr. Stronghold sat on a stool at the counter with a mug of coffee that hid his uncomfortable and awkward expression. Warren knew it was because of him, but he didn't care. There were more important matters at hand.

In the connected dining room, Will sat with a smile. He seemed happy to see Warren, but he was also worried. He did well to not let it show, but Warren could still tell. Across from Will sat Layla Williams. She gazed at Warren with curiosity and confusion. He then realized that she was staring at his left wrist, more specifically what was wrapped around it. The black metal cuff around his wrist was cold and tight. There was a dot that before, would have glowed green and red, but now stayed a muted gray. There was a visible crack in the cuff, but it wasn't deep nor large enough to cause the entire cuff to break, so it sat unbothered on his wrist. Warren crossed his arms and made sure to tuck his wrist under his arm. He didn't like that Layla was staring at it. He often told himself that it wasn't there, that it was invisible. He wished Layla would tell herself the same.

"Warren, honey, why don't you take a seat?" Mrs. Stronghold said as he guided him towards the table Will and Layla were sitting at. He sat beside Will as Mrs. Stronghold placed a plate full of breakfast food in front of him. Warren's eyes widened at the amount of food before him and he sighed because he couldn't eat half of the things on the plate. He was lactose intolerant. Even if he wasn't lactose intolerant, he didn't think he could eat that much, but his stomach growled and he was hungry.

"Go on." She said. Warren looked up at the woman and she sent him an encouraging smile. Warren cleared his throat, but couldn't bring himself to tell the nice woman that he could only eat the meat on his plate. He picked up a piece of sausage and popped it in his mouth. Mrs. Stronghold gazed at him, satisfied, and turned to her husband.

"So, Warren, I don't think you can fit any of my clothes, but I'll leave some on your bed, so you can shower before I leave for school," Will said. Warren nodded as he chewed on a piece of bacon. He looked forward to taking a shower. The only showers he got were cold buckets of water and small bars of soap. The only time he properly showered was on days where he was granted chances to go outside and even those were still cold.

"Oh, you remember Layla, right?" Will gestured towards the girl across from them who stayed quiet ever since Warren stepped into the room. She opened and closed her mouth, quite like a fish before finally managing to say something.

"Hey, Warren. It's really nice that you're back." She smiled awkwardly and Warren gave her kudos for at least trying. He gave her a little nod to show that he was grateful for her words. Will hopped from his seat with a quick 'Be right back' before running upstairs, leaving Layla and him to sit awkwardly at the table. Warren realized that Will must be going to get clothes for him.

"Will, Layla, you two have to leave now or you'll be late for the bus!" Mrs. Stronghold called out. Will's fast steps could be heard from where he was sitting as the boy ran down the steps. As he came closer, Warren saw a familiar jacket clutched in Will's hand. Will came to a stop before him and let out a breath.

"I found this at the school after you went missing. Thought you might want it, now that you're back."

Warren reached forward and grasped the jacket. He ran his fingers over the leather material. It was his father's jacket. The one he wore when he taught Warren how to throw a fireball or warm up his noodles. The one he wore before he became 'Barron Battle, one of the most feared villains.'

Warren looked at Will. The gratitude he held leaked out of him and formed a smile. He felt even warmer than he did when he first came here and warmer than he did when he was lying in the guest bedroom that he desperately wished was his own. Will had found his jacket and kept it safe. He didn't leave at the school for rowdy teenagers to run over it. He took it home with him and kept it snug in his room, away from the hands of others. Warren couldn't be more grateful. He hoped his smile told Will that much as he watched the boy and Layla walk out of the door. Soon after, it was just him and Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold.

"Sweetie, you barely ate anything!" Mrs. Stronghold exclaimed. Warren bit his lip guilty before clearing his throat.

"I'm, um," Warren hadn't spoken since he arrived here and he had to clear his throat again to get used to the feeling, "Lactose intolerant." He finished with a couch and a blush as he forced his eyes to stay on the table.

"Oh, Warren, why didn't you just say so?" Mrs. Stronghold tutted. It had only been five seconds before his plate was taken away and replaced with a lukewarm bowl of oatmeal and toast. Mrs. Stronghold urged him to eat after telling him to not be afraid to talk to her or anyone in the house.

-

After finishing his food, Mrs. Stronghold sent him upstairs to get prepared for the day. They would be visiting DOSA today, although Mrs. Stronghold disagreed with these plans. She thought it was too early to go. She wanted Warren to settle in first, but he wanted to get it done as quickly as possible. They would meet with some of the members of DOSA including Principal Powers, who called in for a substitute for the day, the reason being that they needed to know the details of Warren's kidnapping and his escape. Warren was nervous and he let the thought of showering distract him for the time being.

Warren stepped into the guest room. He saw the blue, long-sleeved shirt and black jeans lying on the bed and grabbed them before making his way into the bedroom's own bathroom. He set the clothes on the toilet seat and glanced at himself in the mirror. The multiple contusions on his face did not fade away overnight. Bruises littered his face from his forehead to his chin. A patch of purple sat under his left eye and his lips remained chapped and split. His wounds didn't heal as they used to since his durability decreased. He wished every day that his ability to heal faster would come back.

There was nothing familiar about him. His hair, while the same ebony color, had streaks of white instead of red. It no longer brushed past his shoulders. Instead, it was neatly cut into a short quiff. He didn't want to think about when his hair changed. A lot more changed than just his hair that day.

His body was lean and defined. He was forced to exercise daily. He found running to be a calming activity, something that took his mind off the bad things that happened around him.

Warren shook his head and turned on the shower. He didn't want to be late. Something told him he needed as much time as possible during the meeting to explain things that he never wanted to relive, but had to for the sake of everyone's safety.


End file.
